it goes like this
by sickphilosophy
Summary: they've got superpowers, and you're not talking about starbolts or ancient incantations. (A look into Nightwing's train of thought)


RobStar Week Day 6: Children (which is more a cameo and less a prompt oops)

* * *

1.

It goes like this.

The morning light ebbs and flows through her hair like waves of fire, and you wonder how you got on with life before she started sleeping in your room, because waking up to this—a glorious configuration of golden skin and red hair and bright green eyes tangled in the sheets—seems like the only correct way to start the day. Her hand snakes out of the blanket and she runs her thumb across your jaw. There are fifty emotions on her face, and because you've been with her for some time now, you know she's about to tell you something sad, and intimate, and honest.

"I believe leaving Tamaran was the worst thing to happen to me."

That's a new one.

"Really?"

She nods. "Because it was home. And now I'm here and Earth is home. I can no longer be in either place without missing the other. I fear I am going to spend the rest of my life in a state of yearning, regardless of where I am."

This is a dilemma because you can't relate. There's no "yearning" going on when you think of where you grew up. Gotham is more of a ghost you can't shake off than it is anything else. But then Kory takes your fingers and brings it up to her lips, and you're reminded that right now she's not looking for someone with answers. She's looking for you, here, sharing the same pillow and breathing the same air while she chips at raw, unorganized thoughts bit by bit. For her this is good enough, and she deserves more than good enough but it's only morning so there's time to make it up to her.

And that's important because Kory's kind of the most beautiful thing in your life right now and it has nothing to do with her face or her body and everything to do with the life force thrumming inside her, pure and ferocious, and her vulnerabilities and her trust and her kindness that have all miraculously stayed alive despite everything she's been through. They're the foundations of the safe house you've been building for yourself inside of her.

You'll have to get out of bed eventually. You both do. You have a team to lead and she's got to play her part in it. But for now, you give yourself a pass to be selfish, and you cup her face into your hands and you kiss her so deeply you don't even know who is breathing for whom. And that's how you let your day begin.

2.

Sometimes you can't even stand to look at him.

But you'd rather Garfield not know that, because it's not his fault. So you take the mug of coffee he's offering you like it's no big deal and you lean back against the counter, pretending the way he hums commercial tunes while reading the back of the cereal box doesn't make your heart ache.

You've maneuvered the big brother thing with Jason and Tim in the same style Bruce maneuvered fatherhood with you: with an awkwardness beyond measure and heaps of crippling self-doubt and a whole lot of mistakes to seal the deal. So sometimes Garfield terrifies you. Because there's a brotherhood going on and you rank on his list of role models, and you just don't want to fuck it up. You've seen what it's like to have a kid so lost and disturbed it got it himself killed. Or the way grief can come down on everyone like a grenade. You know guilt in all its shiny forms, and the insidious way it unravels you with thoughts of what you should have said and what you could have done to keep that boy alive.

Garfield is nothing like Jason. But you're not really interested in taking any chances. Because behind a screen of lame jokes and false bravado is someone who's had a childhood much tougher than he lets on. Gar's got the concealment of pain thing down. And if his powers have taught him anything, it's how to adapt, how to get from one form to another in order to survive. That's resiliency, and Garfield's got it in spades.

He's growing into something spectacular, and just please, please don't fuck it up, Dick. Because you're tired of lost potential, and you know you won't claw your way out of darkness if it happens a second time.

Gar's reading the nutritional value of Fruity-O's on the side of the box and you can't stop thinking how decent he is. There's a leader inside him, he doesn't even realize it yet. You've been waiting for the right time to start a new type of discussion with Gar, one about change and the future of the team and your intentions of making him a bigger part of it. Maybe the right time is today. So you stand there, rehearsing it in your mind.

"Dude, you ever wonder how calorically dense a booger is?"

Maybe not today.

3.

Raven's got hawkeye vision because there is no other reason for you two to be sitting this far away from the mark. The distance is the span of the whole food court and the little girl looks like a tiny blip in a sea of Jump City consumers.

The mall as the venue is your idea, because it's best to not make a scene, but you've tagged along in case things go sour since you never want Raven to be dealing with shit alone. Maybe it's because she's been inside your head, or because she's got the bases covered with father issues and toxic vices and you can both struggle together, but for whatever reason, Raven knows you better than anybody. Better than Bruce and Alfred and Babs and Donna. Even better than Kory.

Maybe it works both ways, because you know what she's thinking right now.

"They start them young, don't they?"

The mark is barely a teenager, with a gaunt face and empty eyes and she's scrawny and pale in a way she shouldn't be. And there's a story somewhere but all you need to know is that the system thoroughly failed her, and when people are that desperate and alone and marginalized, they tend to seek salvation in darker places.

Like a Trigonic cult, and Raven's committed to not having that happen.

Because it's against the rules of Raven to believe there's nothing you can do to help those who've spiraled into darkness. Raven believes everyone—everyone—is redeemable. And here's where Gotham rears its ugly head and mucks it all up for you, because you don't know if you agree. You think you've seen irretrievable people before. But Raven's got a faith in humanity so fierce it can shake your own beliefs and that's also why you've tagged along. Because you want a revelation.

Raven looks at you. "Do you think people notice when I'm around?"

"I notice when you're not. Does that count?"

"What if I'm not enough to change her mind?"

"Let's find out."

You see it well up in her face, the self-doubt. And suddenly she's rambling to you in a quiet voice about how maybe she's not the right person for the job. It should be you. It should be Starfire. It should be someone with an actual joy for life to sell and I can't do it, Nightwing and I'm too unengaging and Why do I feel like something's missing in my life without you guys and you guys don't feel the same about me? and Everything's swirling away and I'm swirling apart—

Raven's getting a little hysterical, so you grab her hand.

"I think it's about time you save that girl."

She takes the first step forward. And you're mentally throwing all the strength you have at her. Raven doesn't realize how much you've made her well-being a priority in your life. That you had secretly vowed long ago to keep her around forever.

4.

The team is sitting on a gold mine with this guy and it's like nobody notices but you.

The end of the day hits and Cy's got the foresight to wrangle you all up into the T-mobile, and before you know it you're at the pier, watching Kory explain to the children on line for the cotton candy vendor not to be startled if it disappears in their mouths. Garfield's got Raven by the arm, dragging her towards the Tunnel of Love with a sadistic gleam in his eye, and you just take it all in, amused out of your mind to witness Cyborg dip into the booth of a very, very pretty fortune teller.

Cyborg's ironically the most human out of all of you, because he doesn't forget to relax and if he sees you neglecting yourself he'll shove relaxation down your throat as well, because he's a no-man-left-behind kind of guy. Cy's way passed dealing with his pain and that's what makes him a success story. Maybe one day you'll get there too.

Cyborg leaves the booth with a smug smile and the fortune teller's number. He walks towards you, giving a subtle gesture of victory and you go in for the fist bump, grinning ear to ear. "Please don't tell me you gave her the 'I see your future and it's me' spiel."

Cyborg looks at you like you're not making any sense, and points to himself. "Look at me. You think I need a pick up line with shoulders like these?"

You can't get enough of him. Of any of them. Because they've got superpowers, and you're not talking about starbolts or ancient incantations. You're talking about Starfire's kindness and Garfield's resiliency and Raven's faith and Cy's confidence and you know you've got to deliver too. You've got to make all this worth it for them. Because for some godforsaken reason the universe sent you a family you don't deserve and you have no intention of giving it up anytime soon.

Starfire runs up and kisses you. She tastes like cotton candy, and you realize you finally have an answer for her. You want to tell her to stop seeing home as a place, and start seeing it as a group of people who have her heart. That way, no matter where everyone ends up in the future, every stretch of space between one loved one and another won't seem so terrifying.

A few years ago you came to this city because you were running away from something. And look at you now, drawn in like a magnet.

You breath in rhythm with all of them, and it's kind of everything.


End file.
